CHAPTER THREEEEEE! Or is it two? Can't remember… My english teacher found out about my fan fiction and wants me to read this to the class…
I know.
Embarrassing much?
Anyways, hope you enjoyed it!
If the tension in the lounge could get any larger than it already was it would be hard to breathe. Coulson entered and the entire team stiffened, sat up, immediately roused to attention. FitzSimmons sat on the couch, faces etched with worry, Ward's jaw was clenched even tighter and May's unreadable mask had a hint of confusion. He paused in the doorway, deciding the best way to break the news was to just state the facts.
"Sir what's going on?" Simmons asked carefully.
"Yeah what's wrong with Skye?" Fitz echoed.
Coulson's hands met across his front, "As you know she has been searching for her parents, using S.H.I.E.L.D's database to help. Thing is, Skye's not as old as we thought she was." He began.
"She's seventeen," Ward finished, his voice was even, but word's wavered slightly.
"Yes, Child Services were alerted she was here, and they have been told to-"
The door behind him opened, a red eyed Skye behind it, she glanced warily around the room. Standing beside Coulson, arms crossed protectively over her stomach, eyes on the ground she broke the silence that had fallen over the team, "They want to take me away." She quietly stated.
"Where?" Fitz asked.
"Scott Dawson," Skye noticed Ward's shift in posture, obviously making the connection to the small tattoo and the name, "He was my legal guardian."
"Is your legal guardian," Coulson corrected.
"Yeah well it's not like I'm going back," She muttered under her breath, Ward smirked, even in the worse of situations she was still Skye, defiant to any form of authority.
May's gaze though had narrowed, she stepped forward from behind the couch, "You lied."
"Well, I never actually said my age and no one asked so that's not really-"
"You. Lied," She spat angrily.
Skye seemed to shrink, becoming even small than she already was, "Wouldn't you?" It was a simple question, but was laced with a need to be understood.
"No. It's called loyalty," She turned and left, not even bothering with a glance to anyone else in the room.
Her abrupt exit seemed to drain the energy from Skye, her shoulders drooped and her whole posture deflated. Without saying anything she slipped away to her bunk, a stunned emptiness dripped onto the remaining members of the team.
"So what now?" Fitz finally asked.
"Yeah what will happen to Skye?" Simmons quickly added.
Coulson snapped out of the small shell he had slid into, "Child Services will be back in three days, unless we can find her another guardian by then, have it all legal she goes back to Dawson."
"Even if she doesn't want to?" She replied.
Ward stood from his position of leaning against the bench, "It's protocol Simmons. Can't change it."
Her head drooped in defeat, Ward's ever tense jawline clenched once then he left the silence, to go to where he could vent. The gym. Coulson didn't wait around either before finding himself back in his office, searching up Scott Dawson in the database.
"What now?" Fitz pondered out loud.
Simmons smiled weakly at him, "I don't know, I really don't."
S.H.I.E.L.D
"Skye, can I come in?" Simmons asked gently, knocking on the locked bedroom door. She could hear Skye's music from the lab, noting that whenever she was stressed, angry or hyper she would crank it up, not caring who would be able to hear it, this time it was a scratchy old recording of what Simmons guessed was Malcolm McLaren.
When no response could be heard, she tried again louder, "Skye?! C'mon I know you're in there!"
There was a loud screech as the music turned off, a pause then the door slide open, "Oh, hey didn't hear you" Skye immediately answered.
"Well I'm not surprised, you'll damage your-"
"Yeah I know," She grinned, putting on a fake British accent she joked, "You'll get permanent retinal damage!"
Simmons scoffed, "Terrible accent and your retinals are in your eyes!" Glancing around the room she noticed Skye was indeed listening to a small portable turntable, playing a now silent Malcolm McLaren vinyl record.
Skye smirked, the small smile playing on her lips long after the laughter was gone. Jemma noticed though, it didn't reach her eyes.
"I'm sorry Skye," She finally managed to say, the weight didn't leave completely, but lessened from her shoulders, making the bed they now sat on seem lighter.
Without moving her gaze from a spot on the wall she murmured a reply, "Not your fault."
"How did you get here though?" With each hard question the next ambled up behind it, the line never ceasing.
"That would take a long time and a whole box of tissues," Skye stated, little emotion behind the words.
Sighing Simmons asked, "Is there a shorter version?"
She didn't answer, biting her lip Skye didn't breathe, or move. Suspended in the small glimmer of hope that retaining the information would withhold the tears that threatened to spill over.
"Skye?"
Shaking her head slightly to clear the storm clouds overhead she began, "I was twelve when I was placed with him. No one else. Just me and him together, in a small house with thick walls. It seemed the house was sound proof. The world stayed out there. I remained in there. By thirteen he decided that he wanted to keep me. I don't know why. I wouldn't talk to him, touch him, eat with him. But he had big rough hands." Even with the vaguest of terms it dawned on Jemma what her friend was referring to. What a grown man had put a girl, not even a teenager through. It was no wonder Skye had ran away.
"Then what?" The words were weak and small, yet spoke a magnitude to someone who had been raised by people who never thought about her once.
"I learned about computers, hacking. Found all I could on myself and then deleted everything. Left him. Made a fake ID and got a job waitressing. A few months later I heard about the Rising Tide. The way to get in is to hack their website. After a few tries I was in." Once Skye was no longer talking about the parts of her life she had kept hidden her words gained their emotion again, they were no longer syllables strung together, but an actual story. Her eyes lit up at the mention of what Simmons assumed had become a family for her.
"Well I'm glad you met them, or else we wouldn't be friends," She smiled.
Skye's eyes slowly met Jemma's, "We are still friends right?"
The absurdity of the question yet the real sudden panic in Skye's expression sent a sharp jolt through Simmons, "Of course! I can't think of a reason why we can't, obviously we are still friends!"
A small smile was all the would hint toward the relief flooding Skye's system. Her face grew dull suddenly, eyes glazed over, standing she mumbled, "Can I be alone?"
Jemma was surprised, they had seemed to be having a good 'girl' chat, but she supposed Skye had a lot to think about, "Oh, sure, you know where I am."
She nodded weakly, opening the door for her friend to exit, Simmons was partially through the doorway when she paused, "Skye," Their gaze met, "D-don't go to sleep right now, maybe let things settle first. Everything's pretty fresh right now"
Skye was confused, "Why?"
Jemma's face held only sadness, "You talk in your sleep, I know that you're fighting with your dreams."
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